


Breaking Points

by Arriva



Category: Limetown (Podcast), The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: F/F, Hallucinations, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7516372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arriva/pseuds/Arriva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On one end of the world, Alex Reagan is having a dream. On another end of the world, Lia Haddock is living a nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thischarmingand (electricchicken)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricchicken/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a kinda-sorta continuation of [You've Got A Lot On Your Mind](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6524974) for the Secret Santa Summer Hell exchange! You should definitely read that one before this one because 1. It's really good! and 2. This will make more sense.
> 
> It will definitely be non-canon if Limetown season 2 ever comes out. Key word being if.

**Seattle, WA**

_"I really think you'd prefer the pill."_

And so begins the last nightmarish minute of _Limetown_ Episode 6. And yes, it has given Alex nightmares. Hearing that last minute is agonizing, but she powers through it. Alex fears if she doesn't listen, she'll forget.

_"I'm sorry for losing-"_

Every time Lia's voice cuts off, Alex feels her stomach drop. And then it's over. No to be continued. No credits. It's just over.

With a sigh, she closes the podcast. It's four in the morning, and she's in the PNWS office battling another sleepless night. She's learned that sleepless nights are dull. This is also one of those nights where Alex feels the ghost of Lia Haddock's fingers tangled up in her hair. Her lips pressed gently into hers. Her back arched as Alex... it doesn't matter now. Most of the time their night at the airport Radisson feels like a strange dream.

Listening to _Limetown_ is the only way for Alex to remember it was all real.

She remembers the day after Lia's final broadcast. Everyone in the office had tuned in; even Strand couldn't resist listening. It made the day after even more brutal. The entire office had a somber air about it, even amongst the interns. It could have been described as mourning had they known what happened to Lia. Alex spent most of the day in her office. Nic was the only one who knew about her night with Lia. Alex doesn't know how he did it, but not a soul disturbed her that day. Not even a phone call. When the last intern left, Nic came in to her office with a bottle of whiskey. They spent that night tossing around theories, emptying the bottle in their search for the truth. Nothing came of it.

Then time passed, as it is prone to do. Not even Nic could hold on to the disappearance of Lia Haddock that long, not with his own disappearance to investigate. 

But Alex couldn't forget. Night in the airport aside, Lia was a journalist like her. A little ethically dubious like her, Alex thinks with a smile. Lia understood though. The need to know the truth, even if she had to risk her life and her career to get it. If it had been Alex faced with going into that cellar... she would have gone in too.

Maybe that was why she re-listened to _Limetown._ It started as a way to get clues. Pick up on anything that might help Alex figure out what happened to Lia. Then she listened to it a third time, then a fourth time, and eventually she lost count. Listening to _Limetown_  now serves as a particularly torturous way to pass time during the night. And who knows? Maybe one night she'll pick up on that breakthrough clue that brings Lia back.

That's probably the insomnia talking.

Alex rubs her eyes. If she could sleep, she would fall out right on her desk. She wouldn't even need a pillow. But she's accepted for awhile that sleep isn't coming to her so she pulls out a Manila folder stuffed at the very back of her filing cabinet. There's not a label on it, but the folder is bursting with loose papers. Alex remembers one frustrated night shoving everything in there and leaving it where it's been for months.

She must really want to torture herself tonight. Alex unceremoniously empties the folder onto her desk. Her pile of notes, ranging from messy to downright illegible, stare back at her as if to say  _You couldn't figure it out._ She never did have that breakthrough moment. Obviously. Otherwise she wouldn't be here. 

But that was months ago. She was tired. Strung out. A fresh perspective might help her find something she missed earlier.

At this hour, she's tired enough to believe herself. She gathers her notes on Limetown and starts sifting through them. She throws away the unreadable papers and tacks potential leads to the wall with an obsessive dedication. Soon enough, she can't see the floor of her office. She also sees shadows in her peripheral vision, but she ignores those. She steps around the mess and continues going through her notes, even though her eyelids are drooping and she yawns every minute or so.

Somewhere between her fifteenth and her twentieth pushpin, she falls asleep.

* * *

She's in a parlor. Why it's a parlor, she doesn't know. The walls are cream, and there seems to be no ceiling. No furniture either, but she's standing in an expanse of flowers scattered across the floor. Surely that's what makes a parlor, right? It feels like a parlor, so that's what she's sticking with.

She bends down and picks up a lily. She brings the lily to her nose, staring at its white petals in fascination. Its scent is faint, like a ghost. This one will be perfect.

She steps on roses, marigolds, and other extravagant flowers in favor of more lilies. Thorns prick at her feet, but it is a small sacrifice for the perfect bouquet. Soon enough, Alex has a dozen lilies gathered in her hand.

There's a warm liquid beneath her feet. Alex looks down and sees blood pooling from the soles of her feet. If only she'd worn shoes today.

A pair of bare feet join hers.

"You started early."

Alex looks up into the face of Lia Haddock.

She's different from the last time Alex saw her. Lighter. Airier. Like she might disappear if Alex blinks. Lia eyes the bouquet. "A little old-fashioned, don't you think?"

"Lilies are traditional," Alex says dismissively.

"But they're so dull." Lia plucks up a pink orchid. "Now _this_ one is interesting. Don't you think there's something mysterious about this type of flower?" Alex looks unconvinced. "Well, _I_ like it."

Alex's gaze drifts lazily to the orchid in Lia's hand. Lia is already a mystery. Why does she need flowers too? Still, Alex doesn't want to argue with Lia, not when it's been so long. But orchids? Lia really doesn't know what she's talking about. Then again, she should at least have some say in the preparation of things...

Alex takes the orchid and places it in the middle of the lilies. "There."

A hum of pleasure escapes from Lia. She reaches for Alex from behind, wrapping her arms around Alex's waist. She kisses her neck. "It's just what I wanted," she murmurs.

"Even the lilies?" Alex says nervously.

"Especially the lilies."

Lia rewards Alex with another kiss, this one to the lips. Her lips tastes sweet the way the lilies smell, only her presence is vibrant like the orchid. It is an intoxicating blend, and Alex realizes Lia made the right decision. The flowers drop from Alex's hands as she turns around to pull Lia closer. Anything to close those pesky couple of inches between them.

At some point, they land on the floor, Lia kissing her way down Alex's chest. The scent of flowers washes over Alex, and the petals get caught in her hair. There's so much of _everything_ ; Alex fears she might drown in it. Her back arches as Lia kisses her stomach. Her hands struggle to find a hold on the floor, so she settles for pulling Lia back up to her, kissing her on the lips.

Alex finally has to come up for air, although Lia seems to have no trouble breathing. They lay together on the floor in blissful silence. Lia sits up, untangles herself from Alex. Alex almost asks her to stay. The words are right on her lips. She  _needs_ more; it's like she's been in a drought.

But a more important thought comes to her.

"Where are you?" Alex asks quietly.

Lia tilts her head. "I'm right here."

"You know what I mean."

Lia smiles secretively. It has the same guarded nature of the smiles she flashed Alex at the airport bar. "I gave you my card. You know where to find me."

But she doesn't. She has only the barest scraps of information to go on, and even then, she can make nothing of them. It kills her because finding things is her _job_. Lia is counting on her and she... she's given up. How can she break something cruel to her? Lia's smile fades and before Alex can say something that'll fix everything, she's backing away. Lia goes to the forgotten bouquet and picks up the orchid. A pained expression comes over her face.

The orchid is wilting.

"You will find me, won't you Alex?" she says in a smaller voice.

Before Alex can answer, someone yanks her by the shoulder.

* * *

"Alex!"

Alex gasps when she feels the hand on her shoulder, nearly slipping off her desk. Her eyes flutter open. Nic stands over her with a concerned expression on his face. "Taking inspiration from Strand's bunker?" he says.

Alex sits up and peels a stray sticky note off her cheek. She doesn't know if an intern put it there or she landed on it during her sleep. "Bad night," she mutters.

Her office is a flurry of papers tacked to the walls. Some of them are connected by tape since she didn't have any string. Forgotten papers lie on the floor. There's a coffee stain on the carpet from a pot of coffee she doesn't remember making. Nic stands in the middle of the pandemonium, looking flabbergasted. "Right. So is there any reason you decided to reopen the Limetown Files?"

"I don't know," Alex says with a yawn. "I thought maybe I'd see something new if I went through the case again."

"Did you find anything new?"

"Doesn't feel like it."

Alex gets up from her desk, joints sore from sleeping in such an awkward position. Her clock reads 7:17. Not the worst sleep she's gotten. She steps on a piece of paper and sighs. Her office looks like the kind of trashed that comes with a wild party, not the frantic, desperate investigation of an insomniac. She doesn't want the interns to have to clean this up. Or see it.

Nic helps her clean. As they're taking pushpins out, he says, "I'm sorry about Lia. It must be hard not knowing where she is."

"It feels like everyone's forgotten about her."

Nic is quiet which either means he doesn't agree with her and is too polite to say so or he agrees with her but still has some conflicting points. "There's just not much we can do," he says. "We don't have the resources to look for her, and the people who... took her probably did a pretty thorough job of covering up their tracks. Trust me, if a group doesn't want to be found, they're going to make sure no one can trace them."

"I know. I spent five days looking for you." She doesn't mean for that to come out as bitter, but it's been a long night.

"Alex, I'm not trying to shoot you down," Nic says. She knows that too. "But we have literally nothing to go on."

Alex swipes the Manila folder off the floor with unnecessary forcefulness. "I _know_ that, I've been over that with myself more times than-" A small piece of paper falls out of the folder.

A small piece of paper that has Lia Haddock's name printed on the front and _her phone number written on the back_.

"Oh my god, I thought I'd lost this!" Alex snatches it off the ground.

"What is that?" Nic asks.

Alex brandishes the card before Nic. "Her cell phone number. I got it when we were at Audio Expo!"

"When we were...?" Blush creeps into Nic's cheeks. " _Oh_. You got her number?"

"I did, but I thought I lost it when we flew back to Seattle!" Alex says.

"You got _Lia Haddock's_ phone number?"

"Yeah!"

He blinks. "Wow. Go Alex."

"So  _this_ is something, right?" Alex says. 

Nic inspects the card. "I don't want to say yes but... maybe. Can I take the number down?"

"Go right ahead." Nic grabs a pen and paper and scribbles it down. "So what are you going to do with it?" Alex asks.

"I know an information specialist who might know what to do with this," Nic explains. "She's good at digging up, uh, information."

MK. Alex doesn't know her directly but through editing episodes of TANIS and Nic's very limited grasp of the Internet, she can deduce that's who he's referring to. She's pretty sure Nic enjoys the mystery of having elusive contacts.

Nic sets Lia's card on her desk. "All right, I gotta set up the recording booth. Strand's gonna be here in fifteen minutes, and he'll probably want coffee."

Right. The Black Tapes. Her _other_  conspiracy-laden mystery. She'd completely forgotten the interview with Strand until Nic brought it up. And knowing him, he'll show up early.

"All right. I'll be down in a minute."

Alex grabs the Limetown folder and puts it back in the filing cabinet, this time closer to the front. She gives her office one final once-over. It's more or less back to its usual clutter. Though she suspects it's going to get messier in he coming weeks. Alex starts to head out when she stops at her desk.

She picks up Lia's card. The edges are worn, and the red lettering is a bit faded. But the handwritten message is still clear:

_Don't let it break you._

Alex smiles. She won't.


	2. Lia

**???**

She would have preferred the pill.

Green tiles. White wall. Or maybe off-white. Gray door- no, the door should be brown. She blinks, though it feels like weights have been tied to her eyelids. The door is still gray. Still locked. She can't tell if the room has changed or if they took her to a different room. The room is always changing. The last time it had a small window in the corner, but they must have painted it over. Somehow.

_My name is Lia Haddock._

Lia... or is it Leah? Letters are hard to remember these days. Come to think of it, days are hard to remember too. Some days she thinks she might not even be a real person. Just another row on another spreadsheet. 

She blinks again. The room stays the same.

_I'm a reporter for American Public Radio._

Is she still? She's taken too many sick days. She'll have to have a good explanation for why she's been gone so long. Maybe if she begs Mark for her job back, promises to cover safer stories. Surely he'll understand her absence.

She blinks again. The room stays the same.

_I'm doing a story on Limetown._

She misses her recorder. She misses a lot of things, but if she could pick something to have right now, it would be her recorder.

Not that she can pick.

She blinks again. A pig stands before her.

Napoleon. The name comes to her, but she doesn't remember where from. She sits up so she is eye level with the pig. Napoleon doesn't react, simply looks right into her soul. Or maybe her brain. Because she can feel him inside her brain, and she can feel herself inside his brain. It's quiet in his brain.

She reaches out to Napoleon, only to get distracted by the pinpricks on her arm. She keeps getting more of them, but she doesn't remember how. She remembers the pinch of a needle. A hand over her mouth. The smell of latex. Sensations come and go, and all she has to show for it are these lousy pinpricks. They line up on her veins like dots. Like one of those connect-the-dots books she drew in as a kid. Do hers form a picture too? She stares hard at them until her blood seeps out from each puncture. The thin red lines trickle toward each other until they're all connected.

They don't form anything.

Napoleon grunts. She feels something new. Oh, right. He's disappointed in her. _Napoleon is right_. She's disappointed in herself.  _Napoleon is always right_. 

"He's not real, you know."

Napoleon squeals and collapses to the floor. She feels _pain_. She draws back in a panic and presses herself against one of the off-white walls, hands over her ears. She watches him writhe like the scientists watched him writhe, the veins popping out of his skin and his tongue dangling out the side of his mouth. He lets out one final shriek of desperation before giving up. His eyes melt away first. Then the skin. Then the muscle. Organs. Bone. Nothing. He leaves no stain on the green tiles.

She knows that voice. She rarely knows the voices, but this one rings out with frightening clarity.

Lia blinks.

"I told you." A woman stands opposite from her. Petite, still taller than Lia, with wavy brown hair and curious brown eyes. Her lips move. "Not real."

 _Alex_.

She looks exactly the way Lia last saw her. Well... technically the last time Lia saw her she wasn't wearing anything. So maybe not exactly.

Lia opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. In her head, she's screaming apologies. This always happens whenever she tries to speak. But this time she _really_ needs her brain to work with her mouth. She can't though. She tries, honest to god tries, but she can't. She gets teary-eyed, and then she's crying. She doesn't want to cry, she wants to tell Alex that she's sorry- 

" _Shh._ " Alex rushes to her side and puts a finger to her lips. "You don't have to say anything. I know it's hard for you."

Her thumb catches one of Lia's tears. Her touch sends Lia back to a hotel room. Her legs tangled up in Alex's. Lips against her neck. Alex's hand reaching down her...  _God_. It sends a shudder through her body.

"You really know how to leave a girl hanging," Alex says with a hint of wistfulness. "I wake up to a cold bed, not a single trace of you. Well..." The card. They're both thinking it. Alex casts her eyes downward. "I should have called you."

Forget past mistakes, she's here  _now_. They can pick up where they left off.

Lia pulls Alex in eagerly, desperately. She _needs_ this. If Lia is in a desert, Alex is her glass of water. Her fingers are in Alex's hair, around her waist, over her chest. She's racing to touch every part of Alex's body. Because Alex doesn't disappear, not like Napoleon, not like Mark, not like Emil, not like the 200 residents of Limetown. Alex slides her hand around the back of Lia's neck, and Lia bites Alex's ear, still in disbelief at how _here_ she is. Her kiss will make the walls stop moving. If Lia can just...

But Alex slips literally from her fingers, dissolving into dust. She rematerializes in the corner where the window used to be.

The playful expression on her face is gone. "Darling, I'm not real."

_Not her too._

A sharp pain rises in Lia's chest, one she knows is real because it's visited her before. Of all her visitors, why did Alex have to be like the rest of them? Unless... she's lying. Yes, she has to be lying because Lia felt her. More than felt her, she brushed against her bony fingers, kissed the dark circles beneath her eyes. How can that not be real?

Alex frowns, more out of sadness than anger. "You know I'm not."

Lia shrinks away from Alex, willing herself to disappear into the walls. Napoleon could do it, why can't she? Her entire body is shaking. She is one flick away from shattering, and that terrifies her. She has to disappear before she breaks because if she's broken, all the pieces of her won't be able to slip away so easily. Then Alex will see the pieces of her then Alex will leave her then... then...

She's crying again. It's pathetic. She's pathetic, and she knows Alex knows she's pathetic. Lia buries her head in her knees and squeezes her eyes shut. If she can't see Alex, Alex can't see her. She's ninety-five percent certain that's how it works.

"Why are you being so hard on yourself?" Alex says.

Five percent wins. What did she expect? She never wins at this game.

"Lia, answer me."

Lia looks up. That's her name. It's been so long since someone said her name out loud. She was starting to doubt herself. Alex is sitting across from her, focused on her like she's the only person in the universe. In this room, she may as well be. Funny. If Alex had a recorder, this wouldn't be far from an interview. Lia hasn't been the subject of an interview before. What could they title this one?  _Lia's Failed Journalism Career?_ What was the question again?

"Why are you being so hard on yourself?" she repeats.

Because... she didn't finish the story. Because she didn't check the door. Because she didn't stop the interview before the timer ended. Because she didn't get to Mark. Because she can't leave, and she wants to leave _so badly_.

"Then leave. The door's right there," Alex says.

It's not that simple.

"Why not? Just open the door and walk out."

Does Alex think she hasn't tried that already? The door is only a real door at specific times, and Lia doesn't have access to a timesheet. God, why doesn't anyone  _understand_ that?

Alex's face softens. "I'm sorry. I know you're trying."

Lia exhales shakily as the room glitches the way static on a television does. She gets these a lot. They're one hundred percent not real (ninety-five percent, she corrects herself). She tilts her head back to the ceiling. Some days, the room doesn't haven't a ceiling, but today, it's there. Off-white, like the walls. She focuses on breathing. Sometimes it's the only thing she can focus on. She looks back down. Alex is still there. Still watching her. Could she please stay with her? Just for a little bit?

Amazingly, Alex obliges. She slides next to her, and Lia nestles into the crook of her shoulder. Alex stares into the walls, and for a split second, Lia believes something actually exists beyond this room. An image flashes in Lia's head. Alex sitting next to her in bed watching her toss M&M's in the air. It's nonsensical. Lia doesn't have a bed.

Lia feels the steady rise and fall of Alex's chest, synchronized with her own then broken as she lets out a deep sigh. "I miss you," Alex says.

She misses her too.

"It's silly, I know," she continues, echoing Lia's own sentiments. "We were only together for a night, and you pretty much left me out to dry. It was just nice being with someone who..." 

...understands. At a place in her head she hates to visit, Lia wonders if this is what Alex would really say to her. Or is this wishful thinking? The Alex pressed against her is a perfect copy of the Alex from the airport right down to the traces of scotch on her breath. What difference is there really? Why not settle for this one? What's the worst in indulging one tiny fantasy? Yes, just one little thing to make all the bad things feel slightly less worse...

Lia's head snaps up. She hears footsteps in the distance. A whimper escapes from her.

This is one of the bad things.

If she can't see them, they can't see her, if she can't see them, they can't see her, if she can't see them, _they can't_ -

Alex puts a hand to her cheek, locking eyes with her. "Lia, listen to me." Her eyes burn with an intensity that could drown the room in flames. "You're not getting out of here until you can get your head straight. You need to start thinking again."

Lia shakes her head. She's  _tried_ thinking. Every time she's lucid enough to remember anything more than her name, she can't. Once those approaching footsteps arrive, then she _really_ can't.

But like any reckless journalist, Alex doesn't give up. "Yes, you _can._ You're smarter than they are, and they know that. That's why they're making it hard for you."

The footsteps are getting louder.

"Remembering's the hardest part, right?" Lia stares at her in confusion. How does she know that? Still, Lia nods. "Okay, so what can you do to make remembering easier?"

What  _can_ she remember? Alex. Alex, Alex, Alex, that's all that runs through her head. Alex isn't real, another Alex is real, Alex has very nice eyes, Alex is with her in this room- the room. The green tiles. They were in the last room. Which means... there are at least two rooms.

She's on the same floor.

Alex nods along understandingly. "Okay, good. You're doing great, Lia."

She doesn't feel great. She feels small. With shaking fingers, she reaches for Alex. Alex instantly slips her hand into Lia's. The shaking stops. For someone who isn't real, she has warm hands. Just the way Lia remembers them.

"No one expects you to get out of here on your own," Alex says. "But there needs to be something of you left when I get there."

She's right here though. A worn expression has returned to Alex's face, like a candle slowly dying out. If there was something Lia could do, something to keep her burning just a little longer. Alex knowingly slides her hands beneath Lia's shirt. "I wish I could stay," she murmurs.

Damn it all, Lia doesn't care if she's not real.

She grabs Alex and presses her lips into hers. They collide like magnets. Alex hoists Lia onto her lap as her tongue breaks past Lia's lips and into her mouth. It is aggressive, more aggressive than their last time together, but time is working against them. Each second has to count for something. So they kiss with the rushed heat of two students scared of being caught under the bleachers. As the seconds go by and Lia has Alex by fistfuls of her hair, she hopes that maybe time has stopped entirely.

Then Alex wrenches herself away, and Lia knows their time is up.

The footsteps stop right outside the door. Alex tilts her chin up and plants one last gentle kiss on her lips. "Don't let it break you," she whispers.

She blinks, and Alex is gone. It's like waking up from a dream that shouldn't be over yet. It's worse than a nightmare, because waking up from a nightmare offers some reprieve. She would be safe, protected. Instead she is empty like the room is empty, and worse, she is alone.

Green tiles. Same floor. She has to remember that.

She looks to the door.The lock clicks open.

Lia smiles. "I won't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! This was originally going to be just one chapter, but it started getting long. In the end, I feel better splitting it up!


End file.
